16. Sophie
16
SOPHIE
T he office is bright and open, the walls lined with glass that does little to muffle the constant buzz of activity. Keyboards click, conversations hum, and someone across the room is laughing a little too loudly.
It’s not chaos exactly, but it’s far from quiet, and I wish once again that I was working for myself. Never going to happen now, though, and the sooner I accept that, the better.
My workspace is tucked into the corner near a window. A small desk, a monitor, and a tangle of cables beneath it. Anonymous, functional, and easy to walk away from.
My laptop hums softly as I scroll through lines of code, debugging an encryption program for a client who probably doesn’t even understand why this matters.
Normally, I’d lose myself in this. The rhythm of solving problems, the satisfaction of making something work the way it’s supposed to. But today, my mind keeps drifting.
Every time my phone buzzes, I tense, half-expecting to see a message from Evan or—God forbid—Maxim.
Just work emails or spam. But the anticipation still eats at me.
“Hey, Sophie!”
I look up to see Clara, one of the project managers, heading my way with a coffee cup in hand. She’s always cheerful, always put together, and always asking questions I don’t want to answer.
That’s why I never told anyone here about my upcoming marriage to Evan. Glad I didn’t. Means no one has asked why it didn’t happen.
“Hey,” I say, forcing a smile as she leans against my desk.
“How’s it going?” she asks, her eyes scanning my screen like she has any idea what she’s looking at.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” I reply, keeping my tone neutral. “Should be done in an hour.”
“Wow, I thought it was a week’s work there.” She tilts her head, studying me like I’m a puzzle she’s trying to solve. “Why aren’t you like working for the NSA or something?”
“Sorry, have I missed something?” I reply.
She narrows her eyes, clearly not satisfied with my answer. “Come on, you can do shit in ten minutes that takes the rest of us all day. You must have had some kind of training, right?”
“I’d tell you but then I’d have to kill you.”
She smiles like she’s not sure if I’m joking or not. “Listen, we’re all going for drinks tonight if you want to come with us. Celebrate the end of another week.”
I’m about to answer when I feel eyes on me. I stop, glancing around me. Nothing. Then I look out the window.
There’s a black SUV parked across the street. It’s not unusual in a city like this—everyone drives something big and shiny if they can afford it—but this one feels different. It’s been there for a while, and I swear I saw it pass by earlier. Is that him? Is Maxim watching me?
I lean closer to the window, trying to get a better look, but it’s hard to see through the glare of the sun on the glass. The car doesn’t move, and neither do I.
“Get a grip,” I mutter under my breath, tearing my eyes away.
“You okay?” Clara asks.
“Yeah,” I say forcing a smile on my face. “Better get back to it.”
Outside, the car remains where it is. It’s just a car, I tell myself even as the hairs on the back of my neck tell me it’s anything but.